A Fresh Start

I slip on an identity like an overcoat

just to see where

the rain drops would fall

in this new life I seek.

Would they dance

down the trace of my back

exposed to the life I left behind me?

Would they fill in the holes

of what I fear I lack?

Or would they seep into and threaten to unfold

the layers of my carefully curated interior?

Sinking, blending, stirring.

Would they drown me?

These raindrops of potential

are falling all around me.

Slipping through my fingers

like fragments of fleeting possibility.

I am soaked in visions

of a future I cannot fully see.

I let the raindrops fall

forming puddles of reflection,

mirrors of what is truly happening

now.